مسلمان آن فقیر کج کلاہی

مسلمان آن فقیر کج کلاہیرمید از سینہ او سوز آہیدلش نالد چرا نالد نداندنگاہے یارسول اللہ نگاہی

A Muslim was a king and saint so high, flows from his bosom a flame of sigh;
His heart often weeps why weeps in trance, a glance upon me O Prophet, a glance.

تب و تاب دل از سوز غم تستنوای من ز تاثیر دم تستبنالم زانکہ اندر کشور ہندندیدم بندہ ئی کو محرم تست

The heart takes heat from thy love pangs’ flame, my tone’s large impact is due to thy name.
I weep, because, in the Indian state, I found not a man with thee intimate.

شب ہندی غلامان را سحر نیستبہ این خاک آفتابی را گذر نیستبما کن گوشہ چشمی کہ در شرقمسلمانی ز ما بیچارہ تر نیست

No morn yet to slaves O Indian night, the sun passes not along this land’s site.
No cosy nook yet for us in the East, so broke like a Muslim there is no beast.

چہ گویم زان فقیری دردمندیمسلمانی بہ گوھر ارجمندیخدا این سخت جان را یار باداکہ افتاد است از بام بلندی

As such I say to a. soft hearted soul*, a Muslim is honoured on virtues role.
O God, help the man who leads a life hard; who fell from a summit, God be his ward.
* A Faqir is not actually poor but a voluntary-poor, leads a life like a poor fellow, who actually likes to help the poor to remove their poverty. Where Iqbal says ‘A poor man’ he means the same. There is no equivalent word to convey this sense in English language as I understand. His ‘Faqir’ is not a beggar nor a mendicant, but a man who hikes to distribute every penny to the poor.

چسان احوال او را بر لب آرمتو می بینی نہان و آشکارمز روداد دو صد سالش ہمین بسکہ دل چون کندہ قصاب دارم

A friend’s hidden life how can I reveal, You know what we talk and what we conceal.
Two hundred years’ tale is enough to weep, like a butcher’s wood a heart I keep.

ہنوز این چرخ نیلی کج خرام استہنوز این کاروان دور از مقام استز کار بے نظام او چہ گویم؟تو میدانی کہ ملت بے امام است

The sky* still going on a perverse course, the car’avan is far off from its place.
His wild goose chases I cannot endorse, no leader they have to direct this race.
* The Persian poets, (so the Indo-Pakistani), always symbolise ‘sky’ going on a perverse policy against the inhabitants of earth. As such literal translation was a necessity to enjoy the true sense.

نماند آن تاب و تب در خون نابشنروید لالہ از کشت خرابشنیام او تہی چون کیسئہ اوبہ طاق خانہ ویران کتابش

In his pure blood shines not that vigour and heat, in his ruined land grows no poppies sweet.
He emptied his pocket and sheath likewise, in a ruined arch thus his Book still lies.

دل خود را اسیر رنگ و بو کردتہی از ذوق و شوق و آرزو کردصفیر شاہبازان کم شناسدکہ گوشش با طنین پشہ خو کرد

He made his heart captive of pomp and show, bereft of love’s pleasures his longings go.
The ‘whistling’ of ‘eagles’ he knew a few, as nature of gnats his latent ears knew.

بروی او در دل ناگشادخودی اندر کف خاکش نزادہضمیر او تہی از بانگ تکبیرحریم ذکر او از پا فتادہ

To him the heart’s door is not open yet, no ego in his palm1 has born as yet.
His conscience is empty from ‘Great God’ calls, to ground have fallen his prayer’s four walls.